


The Long Way Around

by ro_mm_ck



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Is there a rating below G?, Knitting, M/M, Schmoop, you could read it to your tiny baby ducklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10878201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ro_mm_ck/pseuds/ro_mm_ck
Summary: Knitting a sweater for your best friend is not subject to the boyfriend curse? Right? Right? Bueller?Seriously Isaac and Stiles and knitting ladies and Scott is adorable.





	The Long Way Around

**Author's Note:**

> Note: For haleboundride because she is awesome and I woke up one morning thinking I should write her some fic. Title from a song by The Dixie Chicks  
> Thanks: to tsukinofaerii for arguing with me on twitter about boyfriend sweaters for like an hour. It's what inspired this fic. Sure we were talking about Derek but yeah... I can't really explain. Also to Clex for reading it while I listened and telling me to post this. <3

"It doesn't count," Stiles says as he finishes binding off a row and checks the pattern for the next piece. It's the last piece to the sweater and he can't wait to finally get this thing done.

"If you say so dear," Angela agrees with a placating smile. Her henna dyed waist length hair lays long and braided down her back with small tufts poking out. She's working on her project across the table. Her own piece is coming along nicely, a brightly colored blue and red striped sweater for her brand new grandson or daughter. She'd been the one to still Stiles' hands when he first came into the shop with questions about his first hat. Circular knitting had proven a little too difficult to tackle alone.

"Scott is my best friend. Making him a sweater doesn't count against the 'Boyfriend Sweater Curse' or whatever you crazies call it," he says to the room at large, making air quotes with his hands.

A group of six people smile back at him, each with a knitted project working between their fingers. Cara, who is working on a complicated lace blanket for her father, is Stiles' age and goes to high school with him. The ice blue yarn slides along her dark skin as she laughs at Stiles' proclamation. "Sure Stiles. You went from a scarf with a thousand dropped stitches, to a lumpy hat, to a sweater that you've pulled out so many times I wouldn't be sure what it's supposed to look like if there wasn't a pattern in front of you."

"I just want it to be perfect," Stiles defends. "I don't want him to wear it because he feels like he has to because that's a thing Scott would absolutely do!"

Stiles casts on the stitches for the right sleeve, carefully checking the pattern for the fifteenth time in the last fifteen minutes. His hands are sure as each stitch slides next to the one before it. He thinks about what the sweater will look like when he finishes and what Scott's face will look like when he sees it. Stiles had stolen Scott's red hoodie to get the measurements of Scott's body right without having to take a tape measurer to his friend. Nothing's more suspicious than breaking out the measuring tape for "no reason" between bros.

"Agreed," Isaac says beside him, his own long fingers working on a simple scarf pattern he is making with a luxurious angora yarn. "Scott would pretty much wear anything we made just to be all proud papa about it."

"Thank you!" Stiles says, finishing the first row. Sometimes Stiles can't believe he and Isaac have become so close over the last several months. It's been one thing after another with the Nogitsune and Allison and everything before that but somehow in finding this small thing to calm his hands from the shaking that had taken him over, he'd also found a bond with Isaac.

Knitting had been something Isaac had shared with his mother before she'd died and it had been Isaac's suggestion that had caused Stiles to try it. Of course he wouldn't let Isaac teach him, Stiles was too stubborn for that, but it had all worked out in the end. Now Isaac and Stiles meet with this group of ladies once a week to work on their projects and talk about things that _aren't_ werewolves and dying things. It's nice. It's given them a kind of eye in the storm.

"But he _is_ kind of your boyfriend, man," Isaac adds.

The entire table laughs at the large mouthed bass expression on Stiles' face as he looks at Isaac. Sherrie drops one of her needles and picks it up still laughing. "See? Even your friend here sees it. The boyfriend sweater is dangerous. We're just looking out for you," she says, sticking the small needle into her sock and continuing the black and white checkered pattern she has going. She sticks a needle into the severe black bun in her hair and grabs a stitch holder. "Just because you're not dating yet, doesn't mean the doom won't come."

"What would you know of doom?" Stiles mumbles under his breath causing Isaac, who hears him clear as a bell, to chuckle softly.

"Alright sports fans, I hate to break up the party but we're closing up soon," Janice, the owner of Eat, Sleep, Knit, says as she checks her watch and slides her stitches down her needles to put her project away. Everyone packs up and helps clean off the table like they have every week since Stiles found the store. Today Stiles is running on automatic pilot instead of chatting as they take plates and napkins into the store's small kitchen.

He can't stop thinking about Scott and the sweater. He knows it's ridiculous. It has to be ridiculous, right? There can't actually be a curse on making a sweater for your boyfriend, right? Scott's not even his boyfriend. Scott's his _best_ friend. Scott's his... Scott. It's not like Stiles is going to finish the sweater and Scott is going to suddenly disappear. Right? Stiles heads outside while Isaac helps Janice wipe down the table and flops himself into the driver's seat.

"I could hear you thinking from inside," Isaac says when he joins Stiles in the jeep.

"Scott's my boyfriend, eh?"

Isaac gives Stiles a look and then looks ahead like he's not even going to dignify that with an answer. Stiles puts the car in gear and drives, but the day is going to stick with him, he can feel it. After he drops Isaac off at the McCall's he heads home without stopping in. He doesn't think he can be in the same room with Scott without his heart beating like crazy.

It's not like he's never thought about Scott in that way before. He has _seen_ Scott. He has eyes. For the longest time there was no one but Lydia for Stiles and Scott had Allison and then Kira. Both women also became Stiles' friends so Scott has been off the menu as were for as long as Stiles could remember. Now that they were both single Stiles wasn't sure what it meant or if it meant anything at all.

"How was the shop?" his dad says as Stiles walks inside and tosses his keys on the table.

"Same," Stiles says absently as he opens the fridge, knitting bag still over his shoulder. "Cara's making this blanket for her dad that has this lace pattern that makes my eyes cross to look at it but the ladies and Isaac are the same. They say hi."

"You didn't stop at Scott's?" the sheriff asks.

"Homework," Stiles mumbles around a bite of apple. "You eat dinner?"

"Grabbed on the way home," the sheriff says, turning back to his files.

"Uh huh. And there were vegetables included in said dinner?" Stiles asks.

"You could say that."

"Would said vegetables be in the fried potato family?" Stiles says.

"Could be."

Stiles heaves a deep sigh and rolls his eyes.

"Don't start," his dad says without looking up from his file.

Stiles sighs again and heads to his room. Just because he'd lied about the reason for skipping Scott's this week didn't mean he was without work to do. There was a new something in town, leaving a slimy trail behind like a giant disgusting snail and its victims in a state of amnesia about the previous several days so it was back into research mode for Stiles. While the sheriff knew about werewolves and things, Stiles tended to still keep it apart from his father unless people were being killed or seriously wounded. He had enough to deal with at work and Stiles liked being able to have something that was just his. He liked being able to take care of his people, his pack.

Pack. Scott. Scott. Pack.

"Oh god," Stiles says as he flops down on his bed, dropping everything, including his apple, onto the floor without care. "What a mess," he grumbles into his pillow.

~*~

"I'm home," Isaac calls as he steps in the house and drops his knitting back next to the door. He'd started saying it for Melissa's benefit a while back after scaring her more than once. Apparently wolves move a little too quietly for her taste.

"In here," Scott says from the kitchen.

Isaac walks into the kitchen and finds Scott at the table with books already spread around him. Apparently he was planning a research session after knitting tonight. Isaac picks up the first volume and it looks to be in French but with many helpful woodcarvings so Derek must have already dropped by.

"Derek didn't stay?" Isaac asks.

"Said he'd be back," Scott says before biting into a Dorito. "He had to ask Deaton something about the slime."

"Oh," Isaac says. He grabs himself a soda from the fridge and sits down at the table. "So, where are we?"

Only then does Scott actually look up from the book he is reading. He looks around the room and tilts his head for a moment listening to the house. Isaac almost laughs that it takes him this long.

"Where's Stiles?" Scott says, his face scrunching up in confusion.

"Went home," Isaac says, snagging one of Scott's Doritos.

"But," Scott says, his hands gesturing to all of the books on the table. "We're in research mode. Stiles lives for research mode."

"That he does," Isaac says.

"Why did he go home?"

"Didn't say. Just dropped me off and left," Isaac says.

Scott can tell there's more to it, but Isaac is being short with his answers so as not to lie. Rather than press for more information, Scott looks back at the passage he'd been reading before. Isaac smiles at him and takes a long sip of his soda.

"Well, we better get started," Scott says with a frown.

Isaac doesn't comment, he just smiles at Scott and continues to page through his book looking for any likely candidates. Derek would be more help with this volume since he actually _speaks_ French, but Isaac's pretty sure that Scott's not going to be in the house for much longer based on how he's fidgeting. Isaac tries very hard not to laugh as ten minutes goes by and Scott is still staring at the same paragraph.

"Something bothering you?" Isaac asks innocently.

"Huh?" Scott says, looking up from his book.

"You've been looking at the same page for a while now and it's either really interesting, really difficult, or something's bothering you. Since it's in English, not exactly about superheroes, I've got to go with option C here."

"Oh, I... I just," Scott stammers.

"Stiles?" Isaac says.

"Yeah," Scott says. "I don't get it. Why would he not come? Why wouldn't he tell me, uh er, us why? What's going on?"

"Why don't you call him or better yet go over and ask him?" Isaac suggests. "I mean he did seem a little weirded out after knitting."

"Knitting?" Scott says. If it were possible for a person's face to become so filled with confusion that it's actually come around the other side that is where Scott is. "Why would knitting make Stiles not want to be here?"

"Something about Boyfriend Curses," Isaac offers cryptically.

"You talk about curses at knitting night?" Scott asks. "I thought it was strictly Muggle talk only."

"You'll have to ask Stiles," Isaac says putting his nose and his attention back into his book.

"Yeah. I'm gonna go do that," Scott says, placing his book carefully into his bag and grabbing a few of the other new volumes to take with him. "I'm just going to bring some of these with me to see if maybe he wants to do his research from home for some reason. Maybe he's sick or something."

"Maybe," Isaac says, not looking up from his book.

~*~

Stiles hasn't moved from his spot on his bed. This spot on his bed loves him and wants him to be happy so he sees no reason to move from this spot ever. This spot doesn't require him to sort out his feelings or do homework or research or fight unspeakable demons. This. Spot. Is. Awesome.

"Stiles?"

Okay. This spot was awesome until this spot became the spot where Scott could see Stiles face down in his bed because Scott is standing outside Stiles' window. Stiles takes a deep breath.

"Stiles are you okay?"

Apparently the love affair he had with the spot is going to have to end because Scott doesn't sound like he's going to let this go. Stiles turns his head to the side and looks over and sees Scott crouched at his window. The latch is turned and locked because Stiles had gotten an earful from his father about anyone being able to turn up in Stiles' room whenever they wanted. He's pretty grateful for it now because it gives him a moment to calm himself before letting Scott inside.

"What's up?" Stiles says. "You could have just come in downstairs."

Scott lets out a short laugh and shakes his head. "Ya know? I didn't even think about it. I was kind of worried about you so I just came right up."

"Worried? Why?"

"You always come over after your knitting nights with Isaac and you didn't. We're researching and you love research! It was weird. And Isaac said this thing about a boyfriend curse something that I didn't quite understand that. He said I should talk to you ab..."

"Oh my god!" Stiles exclaims, jumping up from the bed and walking around the room quickly as he gestures wildly. "How many times do I have to tell people? It doesn't count for the boyfriend sweater curse if I'm not making it for my boyfriend. It doesn't count. It doesn't matter if I've pulled it out sixteen times or whatever I just want it to be perfect. It's not subject to the curse because you're not my boyfriend, okay!"

"Stiles," Scott starts slowly, his eyes big and stunned. "I have absolutely _no_ idea what you're talking about."

"Well, there's supposed to be this curse on making a sweater for someone you're dating. You're supposed to wait until you're married or seriously committed or some nonsense because sweaters take so long to make that usually by the time you're done with them the relationship is over and the person's left you and all you're left with is the sweater you've made for this person," Stiles says, sitting against his computer desk.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"A few weeks ago I started working on a sweater for you," Stiles says. Scott starts to smile his proud puppy dog smile and Stiles has to look at his feet while he says the rest. "And the ladies at knitting kept making fun of me because I kept ripping it out because I kept messing up the pattern and I didn't want you to wear something with all of my mistakes in it because I know you totally would if it was something I made you."

"True," Scott admits without any shame.

"They said that because I was maybe just a little bit OCD over the whole thing that the boyfriend sweater curse would come into effect. I said it couldn't because you're my best friend and making something for your _friend_ doesn't count in the whole curse spiel. They said you were basically my boyfriend and then Isaac agreed with them and then I maybe kind of freaked out because I've only got one arm left to finish on this sweater and what if it's true? What if I finish it and then you go away? And then I told myself I was being ridiculous and there's no way that could happen because we're not, because we've never, because that's not how..."

Stiles stops talking when he sees the incredulous look on Scott's face. 

"What?" Stiles asks. 

"Just so we’re clear, you think I'm going to leave your life if you finish a sweater?" Scott says. 

"When you say it like that it sounds crazy," Stiles says, throwing his hands up into the air. 

"That's because it is, man. You know that we'll be rolling around in our wheel chairs in the nursing home together. You can't get rid of me that easily." 

Stiles smiles and shakes his head at Scott. After school specials had clearly not prepared him for the realization that maybe, just maybe, he'd started thinking of Scott as something more than his best friend. They had been circling around each other for years, never really tumbling into a relationship beyond the platonic but not what Stiles was thinking about it, it was going to stick in his brain until he dealt with it. Ignoring something until it goes away wasn't really an option. 

"What do you think about the boyfriend part?" Stiles says without any preamble. 

Scott stops for a second. 

"I mean it's okay if you're good with us just being friends..."

"Just friends?" Scott says. 

"Yeah, if you didn't want things to change that's okay." 

"But you do?" Scott says, looking at Stiles like he's trying to solve the puzzle that is Stiles' quick mind. 

"I've thought about it," Stiles says and quickly adds, "but I've thought about pretty much all of us paired off together in about every single permutation possible including threesomes and group sex and there may possibly be charts, so it's okay if you haven't." 

"It's not that I haven't --" 

"You have?" Stiles cuts off, head tilting back in surprise. 

"Of course I have, man. I have a working dick and a working brain. Sometimes they even talk to each other." 

Stiles laughs nervously and says, "So, would you want to try it, the dating thing?" 

"You don't think we'll be cursed by your knitting project?" Scott says snottily. 

"I will tear the whole thing apart!" Stiles says, walking over to his knitting back and pulling the nearly finished piece. 

"Don't!" Scott says, grabbing Stiles' hand. 

Stiles looks up at Scott's face and smiles a hopeful smile. He means it. He'll take the entire thing apart if that will give the two of them a chance. 

"Maybe it'll be good luck instead," Stiles offers. 

"Sure," Scott says, shrugging his shoulder, Stiles' hand still held in his. 

"We don't do anything else like normal people do, why would this be any different?" 

"Right," Scott agrees rubbing his thumb along the inside of Stiles' wrist. "Seems like an us thing to do." 

Stiles can feel himself blushing at the stroking of his skin. He smiles and thinks of what the ladies at knitting are going to say next week when he comes in to finish the last sleeve and sew it together. Stiles knows they're partially to blame for what's coming; good, bad or awkward. Maybe just once it will be easy. Maybe things will come together like stitches lining up perfectly. Their friendship had begun with little fanfare, maybe it could really be as simple as this.


End file.
